


the dolphin didn't lie

by 101places



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, I think this is the most explicitly romantic thing I've ever written so that's wild, Intoxication, Reunions, but the tag seemed relevant regardless, episode tag: s06e03 fear and loathing on the planet of kitson, i mean its drugs. not alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 10:19:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18990709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/101places/pseuds/101places
Summary: The Chronicom Hunter didn't appear to whisk Fitz away, and FitzSimmons finally get their long-awaited reunion.( AKA: FS reunite but Simmons is kind of sort of space high )





	the dolphin didn't lie

**Author's Note:**

> god 6x03 was so good. anyway i couldnt stop thinking about this. there were some ideas i had that didn't make it in (like simmons calling him little monkey fitz, and fitz poking her bangs), but i had a lot of fun writing this. so i hope you all enjoy!!
> 
> as always kudos/comments are greatly appreciated!!

“This isn’t a place for a nice girl like you.” The large alien stated, and Simmons backed away.

Perhaps he was right. What was she even doing here? Fitz likely wasn’t behind that door. Nothing else on this hellish, year-long rescue mission had gone according to plan. It was naive of her to have assumed that this would be sorted so simply. What did dolphins know, anyway? Stupid animals. The dumb  _ tursiops _ had probably lied, just to raise her hopes. How cruel.

Then there was a crash, and Simmons looked up in time to see the heavy metal door fall forwards, crushing the alien underneath it. Smoke pooled out from the room, and a familiar silhouette stood in the threshold.

He walked forwards, the light of the corridor revealing who he was. He looked around, gaining his bearings, before his eyes fell on her. His eyes widened in shock as he desperately tried to work out how she could be stood there.

“Jemma?”

Simmons face broke into a smile as a sea of emotions rattled inside her body. “Fitz.”

For a moment they stood, staring at each other. Then, as if in a dream, they walked forwards, meeting one another in the middle. Fitz reached forwards and cupped her cheek in his hand, still hardly able to believe that she was there. Simmons let her eyes flutter shut and she leaned into his touch, not trying to stop the tears that fell down her face.

“The dolphin didn’t lie.” Simmons breathed. “You’re really here.”

Fitz blinked, not understanding what that first part meant, but decided to question it later. “How- how are you here?”

“I’ve been looking for you. After Daisy threw Talbot into the sky we came to find you immediately.”

“What?”

Instead of answering, Simmons just closed the distance between them and buried her head into his chest. “I’ve just missed you  _ so much _ .”

Startled, Fitz froze for a moment, before slowly bringing his arms around her and holding her securely. He didn’t understand what was happening. He didn’t know why she was here, or why she was behaving so bizarrely, but he held onto her tightly regardless. “Me too.”

The two stayed there for a few moments, before the third person in their company decided to remind them of his presence.

“How peculiar.” Enoch stated, tilting his head to the side as he observed the couple. “What is Jemma Simmons doing here, and where did she gain access to puffs of a high enough grade to cause this reaction?”

Fitz didn’t take his eyes off of Simmons as he replied to Enoch, “Puffs?”

“Yes. You should recall, you came close to ingesting some earlier today. They are not suitable for terran consumption without causing some adverse side effects, including anxiety, paranoia, sensitivity to light and sound, slowed reaction time, irrational thinking and hallucinations, amongst other-”

“Are you trying to tell me that-” Fitz cut himself off, gently shifting Simmons so that he could look her in the eyes. “Jemma. Are you high?”

Her pupils were certainly dilated, but that alone didn’t necessarily confirm it. Though the way that she looked at him, as if she could see him but not quite...

She blinked heavily a few times. “U-um. Um. Uh, no?”

_ Oh god _ , Fitz thought numbly.  _ She’s definitely high _ .

Fitz glanced over to Enoch anxiously. “How long do these take to wear off?”

Enoch considered them carefully, “It is dependent on how many have been consumed, and whether they were consumed on an empty stomach or not, but the answer lies somewhere between an hour and two weeks.”

“ _ That’s a pretty wide margin, Enoch _ .”

Suddenly, Simmons remembered why she had followed the dolphin’s code alone, and pulled back from Fitz, gesturing to the way she’d come from empathetically, “We need to go, away from there. There were- uh- shake and bakes coming for us.”

For the first time in his life, Fitz had absolutely no clue what the hell Simmons was trying to say.

“Okay.” He exhaled heavily, shutting his eyes for a moment. “Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Let’s go. Je-Jemma, are you okay to walk.”

Simmons scoffed, walking back over to his side and taking his hand in her own. “I’m not- I’m- I’m fine. I’m  _ fine _ . Fitz, I’m fine.”

Fitz was entirely unconvinced, but instead of arguing he held her hand tightly. Feeling something cold around one of her fingers he looked down, and seeing the ring she wore on a very specific finger, he just felt his confusion grow. But now wasn’t the time. As confused as he was, and as much as he wanted answers to this and a hundred more questions, he had to make sure they got to safety first.

The trio walked down the corridor, away from the main gambling room, until Enoch brought them to a halt outside a door. Fitz looked over at him suspiciously.

“What’s in there?”

“It is a storage room.” Enoch explained, “I thought that, perhaps, it would be prudent to wait for Jemma Simmons to have returned to somewhat typical levels of functioning before continuing.”

“I’m fine.” Simmons insisted.

“Right. That’s probably a good idea.” Fitz sighed.

Despite Simmons protests, the three entered the store room. It was dimly lit, with shelves piled with boxes that Fitz quickly decided he didn’t want to know the contents of. Enoch shut the door behind them, standing to the side.

“It should be some time before our presence here is noted.” Enoch stated.

Finally alone and in relative safety, Fitz gave Simmons his full attention. She was still staring at him as if she couldn’t quite believe that he was here, and he couldn’t particularly blame her. He was still not over the shock of her being here, and he was completely sober.

“I’ve been thinking,” Simmons spoke up quickly, “And, Fitz, I need you to punch me.”

Fitz blinked. “Wh-what?”

“If you think you are hallucinating, just ask them to punch you.”

“You think you’re hallucinating?” Fitz asked, his heart going out to her. He knew what  _ that _ was like, and if it hadn’t been for Enoch acknowledging her, he was sure that he’d be in a similar boat.

“Yes. So I need you to punch me. It’s okay, I can take it.”

“I’m not going to punch you, Jemma.”

“I-” Enoch began, taking a step forwards, but before he could finish his suggestion Fitz held a finger up.

“ _ No _ .”

Enoch stepped back and fell silent again.

“Fitz,  _ please _ . You just need to punch me a little bit.” Simmons insisted, looking at him with a pleading expression that was very much unfitting to what she was asking.

“Jemma, I’m real, but I’m not going to do that.” Fitz tried again.

Simmons lip stuck out into a rather adorable pout, “Okay… how does one make someone punch them? I suppose I could punch him first, but I don’t particularly want to do that. What could make Fitzy angry enough to punch me?”

Fitz wondered if she knew that she was speaking out loud.

Then, she clicked her fingers and held a triumphant expression. “That’s it! Fitz, your wife is a fool.”

He looked at her with a perplexed expression. “I don’t have a wife.”

“Oh. Right.” Simmons shook her head, as if exasperated with herself for having forgotten that. She unclasped her chain necklace and let the ring that had been dangling from it loose into her palm, holding it out to him. “Here. Put this on.”

Fitz slowly took the ring and inspected it, but didn’t put it on. “What is this?”

“It’s a ring.”

“I mean,” He quickly expanded. “Why do you have it? And the one that you’re wearing. Where did they come from?”

“Deke.” She replied simply.

“What’s a Deke?”

“Oh! Of course, you don’t know Deke.” Simmons rolled her eyes, again exasperated with herself. “He’s our grandson. He’s perfect, and I love him, and as you can see he has excellent taste in wedding rings!”

Fitz resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to understand anything that Simmons said until she was sober. At least she seemed to be distracted from her punching idea.

He glanced around the room, and gently led Simmons to a section behind one of the shelves where they could sit. He figured that they may be here for a while, so they might as well get comfortable. As soon as he sat down, Simmons followed him down, practically draping herself over him. He couldn’t really find it within himself to complain- after having been apart for so long, the physical contact was much appreciated.

“I am only approximately 30% certain that you are real.” Simmons explained, making herself comfortable on his lap. “27.4%, if you want to be specific.”

“That’s okay,” Fitz tried to sound comforting. “Can you think of anything I could do to help increase that percentage?”

“Aside from punching?”

“Yes.”

Simmons hummed quietly, thinking. Then her face lit up. “I may have an idea.”

“Oh? What is-”

Before Fitz could finish his question, Simmons had pulled him down, pressing her lips against his. He kissed her back on muscle memory as his brain short-circuited.

After a moment Simmons pulled back a few inches, smirking. “60%.”

“H-Huh,” Fitz stuttered, “Th-that’s, uh-”

“Maybe we could increase the percentage further?” Simmons asked innocently.

“E-Enoch’s watching.” Fitz protested.

Simmons glanced up at Enoch, who was indeed watching them with his regular blank expression, then looked back at Fitz and blinked. “And?”

Fitz tried to think of how to explain to her that he didn’t want to make out in front of his best friend, but his thinking was interrupted by quiet laughter.

“It’s okay. 60% is fine.” Simmons told him between her giggles.

“Were you… making fun of me?”

“Maybe.”

Simmons settled back down on his lap, a peaceful smile on her face. She seemed to be getting past the worst of her high, and though Fitz still had so many questions that he needed answered, he found himself relaxing as well. 

Somehow, things had worked out. 


End file.
